SCENA SECVNDA.
Balurdo from vnder the Stage.
Bal.
Hoe, who's aboue there, hoe? A murren on
all Prouerbes. They say, hunger breakes thorough
stone walles; but I am as gant, as leane ribd famine:
yet I can burst through no stone walles. O, now
sir Gefferey, shewe thy valour, breake prison, and be
hangd. Nor shall the darkest nooke of hell containe
the discontented sir
Balurdos ghost. Well, I am out
well, I haue put off the prison to put on the rope. O
poore shotten herring, what a pickle art thou in!
O
hunger, how thou dominer'st in my guts! O, for a fat
leg of Ewe mutton in stewde broth; or drunken song
to feede on. I could belch rarely, for I am all winde.
O colde, colde, colde, colde, colde. O poore knight,
ô poore sir
Gefferey; sing like an Vnicorne, before
thou dost dip thy horne in the water of death; ô cold,
ô sing, ô colde, ô poore sir
Geffrey, sing, sing.
CANTAT.
